Snow White Must Die (Bodenstein & Kirchhoff, #4)(106)
“That … is not something I can judge. Thies doesn’t speak. He avoids contact with other people.”
“He knows very well who means him well and who doesn’t,” said Heidi Brückner from the doorway. “Thies is not mentally handicapped. Actually we don’t really know the full extent of his abilities.”
Bodenstein was surprised. Christine Terlinden didn’t answer. She was standing at the window looking out at the cloudy gray of the November day.
“Autism,” her sister went on, “can manifest itself in a wide range of ways. You simply stopped challenging him at some point, and instead stuffed him full of medications so that he’ll stay calm and not cause any problems.”
Christine Terlinden turned around. Her already motionless face now seemed completely frozen.
“Excuse me,” she said to Bodenstein. “I have to let the dogs out. It’s already eight thirty.”
She left the room, her heels clicking on the stairs.
“She’s escaping back to her everyday routines,” Heidi Brückner noted with a hint of resignation in her voice. “She’s always been like that. And she’ll probably never change.”
Bodenstein looked at her. There seemed to be little love lost between the two sisters. So why was she here?
“Come on,” she said. “I want to show you something.”
He followed her upstairs to the entry hall. Heidi Brückner stopped to make sure that her sister was nowhere to be seen, then strode over to the wardrobe and took out a purse that was hanging on a hook.
“I intended to give this to a pharmacist friend of mine,” she explained softly. “But under the circumstances it seems better that the police have it.”
“What is it?” Bodenstein asked curiously.
“A prescription.” She handed him a folded piece of paper. “They’ve made Thies take this stuff for years.”
* * *
Pia sat with a gloomy face at her desk typing the report about the interview with Pietsch, Dombrowski, and Richter into her computer. She was angry because she hadn’t been able to keep Claudius Terlinden in custody any longer. His lawyer had lodged another complaint, insisting on the immediate release of his client. After consulting with Commissioner Engel, Pia had finally had to let him go. Her telephone rang.
“The girl’s temple was definitely crushed by a blow with this tire iron,” said Henning Kirchhoff in a sepulchral voice, without bothering to say hello. “And we did find foreign DNA in her vagina. But it’ll take a while before we can narrow it down further.”
“Okay, great,” said Pia. “And what about the tire iron? Can you do another analysis of the traces left back then?”
“I’ll check to see how busy our lab is.” He paused briefly. “Pia…”
“Yes?”
“Did Miriam get in touch with you?”
“No. Why should she?”
“Because that stupid cow called her yesterday and told her I’d gotten her pregnant.”
“Oh, shit. Now what?”
“Well.” Henning heaved a sigh. “Miriam was completely calm. She asked me if that was possible. When I had to admit it was, she didn’t say another word. She just picked up her purse and left.”
Pia was careful not to give him a lecture about faithfulness and adultery. He didn’t sound like he could cope with that at the moment. Although it was none of her business, she did feel sorry for her ex-husband.
“Have you considered that this L?blich woman might be trying to take you for a ride?” she asked. “If I were you, I’d make inquiries. Is she really pregnant? And if so, couldn’t another man be involved?”
“That’s not the point,” he replied.
“What is the point then?”
Henning hesitated with his reply.
“I cheated on Miriam, fool that I am,” he said after a while. “And she’ll never forgive me for it.”
* * *
Bodenstein looked at the private prescription that Dr. Lauterbach had written for Thies, and glanced at the names of the drugs. Ritalin, droperidol, fluphenazine, fentanyl, and lorazepam. Even as a layman he knew that autism was not a disease that could be treated with psychopharmaceuticals and sedatives.
“It’s simply easier to solve problems with a chemical sledgehammer than via the difficult path of therapy.” Heidi Brückner spoke in a muted voice, but the fury in her words was unmistakable. “My sister has taken the path of least resistance all her life. When the twins were small, she preferred traveling with her husband to looking after the kids. Thies and Lars experienced extreme neglect in their early childhood. Housemaids who spoke not a word of German were hardly the correct substitute for a mother.”
“What are you trying to say?”
Heidi Brückner’s nostrils flared.
“That Thies’s problems were created at home,” she said. “It quickly became clear that he had difficulties. He was aggressive, had a tendency to angry outbursts, and didn’t obey. Until he was four or five he didn’t speak a word. But who would he speak to? His parents were practically never home. Claudius and Christine never tried to help the boy with therapies, they always relied on drugs. Thies would spend weeks completely sedated, just sitting around listlessly. As soon as they discontinued the medication he would flip out. They put him in the children’s psychiatric clinic and left him there for years. What a nightmare. The boy is sensitive and highly intelligent and was forced to live with mentally handicapped patients!”